The First of Many - The First Hunger Games
by dauntlessmagic
Summary: They thought something close to peace had come. The war was over, the districts defeated. Left to pick up the pieces, they rebuilt. Then came The Hunger Games. When Nerida Fairling's name is picked, all she can think of is winning and returning to her little sister and the orphanage she had only begun to call home.
1. Chapter 1

I thought it was over. The fighting, the death. The war was over, the Capitol won. Surely we had gone through enough, the bloodshed, the loss.

But obviously, the war that had gone on for years wasn't punishment enough for the Capitol. One day out of nowhere, President Flare announced the Hunger Games. As punishment for our rebellion, two kids from each district were to be 'reaped', and sent into an arena to fight to the death. Only one 'tribute', as he called them, would walk out alive.

I don't know about the other districts, but District 4 descended into complete chaos. As we heard the horrific news on the screen, mothers everywhere were screaming and crying, clutching their children. The elderly shook their heads in sorrow, and the smaller children looked bewildered. We older kids just stood in shock in the square. _Kill each other?_

"All children between the ages of twelve and eighteen are to be present at reaping day in two days. Any child found deliberately evading reaping day will be executed immediately." President Flare booms. I'm frozen. Two days? What if I'm picked? What about Mags, my little sister, the only piece of family I have left? She's only five! She would only have the community home. We were both taken there after our parent's death six months ago. It's a good place; we go fishing in the lagoon every morning to train for our later lives. I'm quite good at it; I got three fish and a crab this morning. The matron, Meredith, is good to us all. She's kind and gentle with weary eyes and silvery hair. She braids Mags' hair every morning, the blonde hair twisted into beautiful knots. The only thing me and Mags share is our hair. We both have waist length blonde hair, but I have green eyes, while she has blue. We look very similar to the other community home kids; we are all mistaken for siblings. I realize, my heart sinking, that one day some of the kids there could lose their lives in this horrific 'Pageant of Honour'.

I stand in the line at 'Reaping Day'. There is a long table with Peacekeepers behind them. I watch the kids in front of me prick their fingers and place the drop of blood over their name. The Peacekeepers use some sort of scanner to verify the blood matches the name.

"Nerida Fairling"

I step forward in a daze, and hold out my wrist. The Peacekeeper takes my finger and pricks it with a needle. I hardly feel the pain; all I can think about is what awaits me. I hear the beep of the scanner, and the Peacekeeper nods at me. The square looks the same, stone walls, the big black screens that now show the televised 'reaping'. The only difference is the large glass balls filled with paper, which hold the names of every teenager in District 4. The district officials are seated on the stage, along with what I can only assume is a Capitol woman. I walk through the crowd and take my place in the section labelled "17, Female" No one seems to know what they're doing, which is understandable I guess. The other girls my age file through and stand in the line.

As the Capitol woman takes her place on the stage, my stomach flips and climbs into my throat. "Welcome! Welcome welcome! This is a very special day! The 1st Annual Hunger Games!"

I'm shocked to find she sounds excited, as if this is a game show instead of a cruel vicious bloodshed. "What a special day in our history! Nothing like this has been done before! Two brave tributes will take their place of honour with me today, and bring pride to their district!" The strange woman trills. _Pride to our district? Place of honour? Just how badly has The President brainwashed these people?_

I've never seen a Capitol person before, and am glad I haven't up until now. They are terrifying, with their pastel makeup, bright wigs, and ridiculous clothes. Their weird accents are almost laughable. The woman goes on and on, I stop listening after 'beautiful, brave sacrifice'.

I tune in again just before she says 'And now for a video all the way from the Capitol!' She gestures to the large screens that surround the district square. The sound of trumpets fill the air. A dramatization of the war begins on the screen. President Flare's voice bounces around the square.

_"War, terrible war. Widows, orphans, a motherless child. This was the uprising that rocked our land. Thirteen districts rebelled against the country that fed them, loved them, protected them. Brother turned on brother until nothing remained. And then came the peace, hard fought, sorely won. A people rose up from the ashes and a new era was born. But freedom has a cost. When the traitors were defeated, we swore as a nation we would never know this treason again. And so it was decreed, that each year, the various districts of Panem would offer up in tribute, one young man and woman, to fight to the death in a pageant of honour, courage and sacrifice. The lone victor, bathed in riches, would serve as a reminder of our generosity and our forgiveness. This is how we remember our past. This is how we safeguard our future!"_

I snort under my breath. What a bunch of lies. As a nation? Just the Capitol. Generosity and forgiveness? We'll see. The country that fed, loved and protected us? I lost both my parents in that war, and they fought for what's right. I look around me to find pale faces, with no emotion. I hope no one actually believes this Capitol propaganda.

"The time has come!" The Capitol woman screeches in her stupid accent. "The time has come to select the male and female tributes to participate in the very first Hunger Games! First the girls!"

My heart leaps and joins my stomach in my throat. It beats fast, like a fishes fins against the wood of the pier. I look to the blue sky and close my eyes, feeling the crisp cold breeze brush against my cheeks. Lovely day for fishing. I take a deep breath and remind myself that my chances are slim, there are hundreds of kids in the district. I open my eyes, the woman has selected a paper. She walks to the microphone, and with every second a thousand beats hammer against my chest. She begins to unfold it, and I tell myself it's not me, it's not me, it's not me. I hear her intake of breath.

"Nerida Fairling!"


	2. Chapter 2

I hear my name through the haze that is my mind. The world freezes. I stand motionless, my heart frozen in time. _Me. I'm a tribute. I'm going to be sent off to my horrific slaughter_.

The crowd parts for me, but I am too shell-shocked to move. The girl next to me gives me a gentle push, and somehow my feet move toward the stage. The woman is beaming and clapping, and I slowly climb the steps and join her on the stage. I look out to the people who I've grown up with. I don't know everyone of course; the district is way too big. Their faces are pale and expressionless but I see a flame of anger filling the air. The stupid 'escort' begins to speak but I don't hear her. The world is a blur, sound a mere muffle. I am going to die. I will die because the districts fought for a better government. Why should I? Haven't I suffered enough? Hasn't my sister - Mags! In the heat of the moment of my reaping, I completely forgot about her! Not only has she lost her parents, now she is going to lose her sister. Little Mags, barely five, already lost her family. Tears prick my eyes, but I fight them away, remembering this is televised. I refuse to be seen as a weakling before I've even had the chance to prove myself.

The woman says something about bravery and courage and crosses to the ball holding the boys names. Somewhere in the mess of my mind I hear the name clear as day.

'Dylan Thorne!'

I recognize the name. I've spoken to Dylan Thorne a few times before. He has eyes the colour of the ocean that surrounds the district, and brown hair that often flops in his face. I see him now, pale faced as he makes his way to the stage. He tugs on his green-blue shirt nervously, and trips up the first step. He walks across the stage and takes his place next to me. The Capitol woman twitters on about our bravery and sacrifice, how the district is proud to bring forward two such courageous tributes. As if we had a choice.

"Alright you two! Shake hands!" The woman orders.

Dylan and I lock eyes, green and blue, and shake hands. He has a firm but gentle grip, which is somewhat comforting. He gives me a small sad smile as the Peacekeepers pull us both towards the Justice Building that stands behind us. The glass doors open and we walk along the marble floor. Dylan and I are shoved into an elevator, with the Peacekeepers following behind. I watch the metal door close and feel us ascending. I feel Dylan's gaze, but am too lost in my own thoughts to do anything about it.


	3. Chapter 3

The door opens, and in front of me I see the most beautiful room I have ever seen in my life. My eyes widen. Two whole walls are merely windows, filling the large room with the brightness of the sunlight and sky. I see the ocean spreading out before me, a never ending blissful wonder. There are white plush sofas scattered around the room, a glass case of shells, and starfish hanging on the walls. The marble floor is a creamy white colour, which matches the two cream walls. "This is where you will say your goodbyes to your families. They will be here in fifteen minutes." Finn, the Head Peackeeper tells us. "Make yourselves comfortable!" I sink down onto a sofa as the Peacekeepers leave to guard the doors. Dylan joins me. His presence is comforting.

"How unlucky, huh? Being picked for the first Games." He says gloomily.

"Yep, unlucky." I reply, staring at the sea. We sit in silence for a while.

Dylan sighs. "Look Nerida, I know we shouldn't even be talking to each other, considering our circumstances. But I don't see a reason why we shouldn't at least help each other."

I glance at him. His blue eyes search me. "Help each other?"

"Yeah, in the Games."

"Okay... well what's your strength?" I ask.

"Well, I'm good with spears. I can throw them a fair distance. You?"

I think for a bit. I remember the time I went spear fishing with the other kids. They ran out of spears, so I was given a knife. After a few minutes of walking around in the water, I spotted a fish. I stood very still and hurtled the knife through the air towards the water. It pierced straight through the fish's head. I remember the feeling of absolute pride and happiness. I got six fish that day, just with that small knife. "I'm pretty good with a knife. And I can throw them as well." I tell Dylan.

"Okay well, we are both good at throwing. That's our strength. I don't know exactly how these Games work, but I'm sure that might be an advantage." He says thoughtfully.

Just before I can ask him what his plan is, the doors open. Dylan's parents walk in, along with Meredith and Mags. Dylan runs to his parents. Meredith has a miserable look on her face, the marks of dried tears still lingering on her skin. Mags' face is bright, cheerful. She doesn't understand what's going on. She runs to the window to join me.

"Neri, you're gonna win, I just know it! And when you do, you'll get a house! We can live together and be rich!" She exclaims. I smile at her, realizing this might be the last time I see her. But I won't give up. For her. I pull her in and hug her tightly.

"Of course, little Mag. I promise I'll buy you a doll house, like the one we see in the shops." I tell her.

Her face brightens.

"Really? The blue one with the sea shells?! You swear?" She exclaims, gripping my hands.

"I swear." I promise her, smiling. To say she was excited would be an understatement. Mags' face is a glowing orb of happiness. I feel a pang of sadness and hopelessness. No, I will not give up yet. I turn to Meredith, and hug her tightly.

"We'll be cheering for you here, Nerida." She whispers into my hair. "I've also heard that we can sponsor you in these Games. We will try our hardest, okay?" The tears I fought away earlier have broken through, spilling down my cheeks.

"I'm scared, Meredith."

"I know you are. Of course you are. But I believe in you." She replies. The Peacekeepers open the door. "Time up."

I pull Mags into one last hug.

"I love you with all my heart, Mags." I tell her.

"I love you more, Neri. You can do it!" She responds. She squishes my cheeks, and grins. I can't help but smile at her. I hug Meredith.

"Take care of her, Meredith," I whisper.

"Of course I will." She replies. They are pulled away by the Peacekeepers, and the last thing I see before the door shuts is my little sisters beaming face. The tears are streaming down my face now, and I slide to the floor and hide my face in a pillow. The tears go on and on. She'll be okay, I tell myself. Eventually I look up and find Dylan sitting on the sofa, his head in his hands. I hear a snuffling. He's crying too. I look out the window, my eyes lost in the blue of the dazzling ocean lying before me. I'll probably never see it again. Stop it, I tell myself. You will, you will, you will.


	4. Chapter 4

We are whisked away to the train ten minutes later by the Capitol woman, whose name I learn is Zibia. I've seen the Capitol trains on the odd occasion, coming to collect the summer harvest. I've never seen the inside though. It is spectacular, with sofas similar to the Justice Building, fluffy rugs, and platters and platters of food.

"We are leaving in five minutes, so make yourselves comfortable! Your mentor will be boarding soon." Zibia trills.

"Mentor?" Dylan asks. "Yes dear, your mentor! They will help you before and during the Games!"

I roll my eyes. What help is a mentor?

"We will be arriving in the Capitol tomorrow afternoon, and you will be taken to meet your stylists and get fixed up. Tomorrow night it is the Tribute Parade, the next few days are training, then your interviews and finally the Games begin!" Zibia recites excitedly.

"Stylists? Why do we need stylists?" I ask.

"For the Tribute Parade, dear! And the interviews!" Zibia looks at me as if I'm an idiot.

I decide its better not to ask any more questions, and I'm getting sick of hearing her voice. After a while she leaves, muttering. I claim the spot by the window, and pull a soft green blanket over me. I watch the sea disappear behind me, replaced by trees.

_What_ _am I going to do? Throwing knives can't be much of a strength, surely? There are going to be twenty three tributes out there in that arena that could kill me easily. Well I guess Dylan isn't much of a threat, he's trying to help. I wonder what the arena will be like?_

My thoughts are interrupted when the doors slide open.

A woman with long auburn hair walks in dressed in a flowing green dress.

"You are the tributes right?" She says in a soft voice.

"Yes." Dylan replies from the table. He's been stuffing his face with the luxury Capitol food, and has a red smudge on his cheek.

"I see you're stocking up!" She laughs.

"Might as well enjoy my last week of life." Dylan replies darkly.

"Oh that's a little harsh! Have faith! My name is Aubrey, and I'm your mentor for the Hunger Games! And you are Dylan and Nerida."

"How do you know our names?" I demand, suspicious of this woman. She sounds too happy.

"Zibia told me." Aubrey answers calmly.

I relax a little.

"Okay, so we might as well face the brutal truth. You are going to be thrown into an arena with twenty two others. It is being built as we speak. It will be built to replicate nature, but the type I am not sure about. It could be a desert, a forest, a wasteland, who knows? But there will be other kids out to hunt you. We need to prepare you two for what you will face. Here's whats happening.

Tomorrow when you arrive in the Capitol, you will be assigned a stylist. They will give you a makeover to make you look appealing for a TV audience. It's not going to be fun filled, but it will happen.

Then you will be dressed up by your stylists and take part in the Tribute Parade, which presents you to the Capitol. You will then spend three days in the Training Centre with the other tributes, where you will learn survival and combat skills. On the third day of training, you will present your chosen skill to a group of Gamemakers, who will be controlling the Games. They will rank you from 1-12, and this will give the sponsors an idea of your capability. The night before the Games you will give a televised interview in front of an audience. This will be your last chance to charm the audience before you go in the arena."

"Why would I want to charm them? I spit, "They are the ones who will watch our deaths and cheer for the next one!"

"Nerida, calm down." Dylan whispers.

"No I will not calm down!" I turn to face him. "We are going to die, Dylan, all for their sick entertainment! Because our parents wanted a better life, a better government, all for us! And we are the ones being punished!"

"Nerida, enough!" Dylan warns.

Aubrey just stares at me. Speechless. She regains composure and stands up.

"Dinner will be at six. I'll see you then."

The door closes behind her.

"What was that?" Dylan bursts out. "She's our mentor! She's trying to help! And you go and have an outburst like that! It's not going to help you, Nerida. I'm angry too, but we need to strategize how to survive in these Games."

"Well I'm open to suggestions."

"You're going to ally with me?"

He seems trustworthy. Of course he is. We are in this together.

"Yes."

"Well then we'll have to develop a plan." He says.

"How can we plan when we don't know what the arena will be like?"

"It will be a replica of actual nature. Just what type of nature we don't know." Dylan says.

"I guess we'll find out." I say.

"We are both good throwers, so we can stay a distance from the other tributes. Can you climb trees?" He asks.

I think. I've always disregarded trees. They aren't any use, except oxygen.

"No, not really."

"Well we can work on that in training." He replies.

I look at him, seeing hope in his ocean blue eyes. _He's delusional,_ I think. Someone too confident won't last long in these Games. By the sounds of it, it will be brutal. A simple televised blood spill, with the audience cheering for more. I already hate the Capitol people, and I've only properly met one. I refuse to fall for their game. I will fight. I will survive.


	5. Chapter 5

Dinner is quiet. Zibia and Audrey sit at the other end of the table, while Dylan and I pick at our food. It is way too rich, lamb with couscous and fancy vegetables, steak and some weird rice wheat grain, and beef and cherries. Dylan and I are used to seafood and cheap vegetables. We aren't a rich district, but we are much better off than some others. I start to feel sick quite quickly.

"So, are you two looking forward to seeing the Capitol?" Zibia's irritating voice floats down the table.

Dylan gives me a warning look. Aubrey's eyes flick to me. I swallow my couscous and try a smile.

"Yes of course, it is going to be very exciting!" I say sweetly.

"That's wonderful dear! You are going to love it! It's so much cleaner and prettier than your dingy district."

I almost choke on my lamb. A flame of anger flares up inside me.

Before I can retort, Dylan interrupts.

"Yes, I'm sure. I am looking forward to seeing the Presidents Mansion. The Capitol and its ways have always been interesting to me. But the war prevented me from seeing or reading anything." He tells Zibia charmingly.

He's a good actor; I almost fall for it myself.

"Well now's your chance dear!" Zibia beams. "The apartments they have designed for the tributes are absolutely fabulous! We escorts got a chance to look at them before we boarded the trains! You two will have a panoramic view of the city!"

"Sounds spectacular." I mutter.

"Well, would you look at the time! The reapings will be airing soon!" Aubrey says, clearly trying to steer the conversation away from my sour mood.

I curl up on the sofa next to Dylan in the Television Room. I hear the rain beat against the windows. I feel a pang of homesickness. Will Mags be setting out the fish hooks for the morning? She's always been brilliant with the hooks; she once made one out of pipe cleaner and a piece of string. Meredith would no doubt be tucking the young ones into bed, telling them stories about magical fish and mermaids.

I shake the thoughts of home away as more tears threaten to spill over. I turn my eyes to the huge screen.

A man with short, multicoloured hair introduces himself as Caige Overrisse. He blathers on about how what a spectacular time it is to be alive, to witness the honourable Hunger Games.

The reaping for District 1 airs. The girl is tall and blonde, with a fierce look in her eyes. She smirks, and strides to the stage. Her name shows on the bottom of the screen. Aurora. The boy is large and scarily muscular, and saunters to the stage with a grin on his face. The name 'Blaize' flashes. Obviously they are stupid enough to believe this Capitol drivel.

The tributes from District 2 share the same brown hair, the girl's jaw length, and the boy's extremely short. Anise and Sage. They both have a cunning look in their eyes.

The District 3 tributes are small and thin. I can see already that they are not afraid to display their weakness. The girl begins to sob and the boy's lip trembles. They would both be about fourteen. They've obviously given up already.

I see the familiar square of District 4 on the screen. I see my own face, stunned but composed. I make my way to the stage steadily. I am shocked at how I subconsciously kept my emotions hidden. When Dylan's name is called, he trips up the steps. Everyone in the room laughs, and Dylan turns a dark shade of red.

"How embarrassing." He mumbles.

"Oh at least it'll make you memorable!" I laugh.

The reapings go on for hours, and the only one that grabs my attention is the District 12 one. A dark-haired girl named Haylee is reaped. She looks around fifteen. A young boy's name is called, but his older brother volunteers. _Wow, how brave_, I think, _no one else has volunteered in all the districts. _The boy who volunteered pushes his brother out of the way and walks determinedly to the stage, his blonde hair shining in the ashy District 12 sunlight. He looks about seventeen. His name flashes across the bottom of the screen. Liam.

So these are my competitors. I look at Dylan. He glances at me, worried.

Caige Overrisse gushes about our bravery and sacrifice and bids goodnight. The screen goes black. Zibia stands.

"Well I'm off to bed. We have a big day tomorrow! Goodnight my darlings!"

"Goodnight" Dylan, Aubrey and I say in unison. She strides out the room, humming.

"I'm going to bed too." I mutter.

Dylan stands up at the same time I do.

"Me too. Goodnight Aubrey."

"Goodnight you two." She says tiredly.

Dylan and I walk along the hallway of the train, picking up glasses of water on the way.

"So, what did you think?" he says finally.

"Think of what?" I ask, confused.

"The other tributes."

"Oh. Well, they are going to be hard to kill."

"Yeah they do look tough."

"That's not what I mean."

We reach our adjoining bedrooms. Dylan turns to look at me.

"Well what do you mean?"

"I mean how are we going to kill them? Kill innocent people who haven't done a thing wrong! These kids are just like us, Dylan!"

"Well it's not like we have a choice, Nerida."

I sigh, knowing he's right. We don't have a choice.

"Doesn't matter."

Dylan smiles at me sadly, his hand on the door to his room.

"Well, goodnight Nerida." He slips through the door and I'm left alone in the hallway.

I sigh again, and go inside my room.

It is spectacular. For a room inside a train, it is huge.

The bed could fit three people, and is covered in soft, coloured pillows. There is a wall which is mostly a window, where I can see the world passing by in the moonlight. There is a door leading to a bathroom, which has a white marble sink and counter similar to the floor of the Justice Building. The shower has a panel and jets in the floor, walls and ceiling. A fluffy white towel waits for me on the golden towel rack.

I walk back out to the bedroom to grab a pair of pyjamas. I look in the wardrobe and find a silky nightdress, ocean blue.

I touch the screen near the shower tentatively, and the shower begins to hum. I select 'medium wash', and choose vanilla and strawberry as the scents. I step into the shower, curious, as the humming grows louder. Warm water shoots out of the jets, gently cleansing me. The smell of vanilla and strawberries makes my nose twitch as a white and red spray is released from the jets on the ceiling and the walls. I am amazed. We had nothing like this back in 4. The jets near my head shoot a gel into my hair and is followed by a strong stream of water. Foam trickles down my shoulder, my blonde hair sticks to my skin. I close my eyes, my body relaxing.

When the shower beeps and the glass slides open, I wrap the fluffy towel around me. I notice a little box by the shower, and the screen comes to life. A little graphic on the screen indicates to put my finger on the circle. I hesitate, unsure of this contraption. After debating for a while, I place my finger on the circle. A strange sensation shoots up my finger to my head, like electricity. My hair lifts, and then falls in a silky blonde curtain around my face. I put my hair between my fingers. It's completely dry. The things the Capitol can afford.

I slip on my nightdress and fall into the massive bed. I barely have time to feel homesick before I fall asleep, the movement of the train comforting me.


	6. Chapter 6

I open my eyes to find sunlight streaming through the enormous window. I stretch and pull the covers off. I sleepily walk to the window, stumbling a little with the motion of the train. Green blurs rush by, and I spot a mockingjay sweeping through the sky. I wish this train would just keep on going, so I could wake up to this every morning. Instead, in maybe a week, I'll most likely be dead. I decide to take another shower, as according to Aubrey, I'll be given a makeover as soon as I get to the Capitol. I pick rose and winter air and once again step in the shower. This is one Capitol luxury I will never grow tired of.

Once I'm dressed I head out to the dining room, my hair in a ponytail. Aubrey and Dylan are already there, eating. The table is full of different breakfasts. Eggs, bacon, bread, and, to my delight, tuna. I grab a plate with some bread and tuna, and the taste of home fills my mouth. I'm thinking of Mags and the community home when Aubrey interrupts my thoughts. "They've estimated the arrival time for around midday, so you have a few hours. On arrival you'll be taken to the Makeover Centre to be prepared for the Tribute Parade tonight. You will meet your stylist and prep team, and I expect you to be cooperative. The Tribute Parade will introduce you to the audience, so you need to make an impression."

"Why do we need to impress them? What difference will it make?" I ask.

Aubrey looks at me with an exasperated expression. Dylan rolls his eyes and keeps chewing.

"Well Nerida, if the Capitol citizens like you, they will want you to win. To win, you must survive. To survive, it helps to have sponsors. If you make an impression at the Parade and interviews, they will give money to give you gifts in the arena. Things like a weapon, food, survival items, the list goes on."

I nod, and reach for more bread.

"You will both have a separate stylist, and whatever your stylist asks you to do, you do it, okay? They will only want to help you." "Okay." Dylan says. "Okay. Oh, another thing. When we arrive at the Capitol, there will be citizens waiting to greet you. Be nice, alright? They could be the difference between life and death." Dylan and I nod silently, and Aubrey gets up, grabbing a piece of bacon as she leaves.

I push my plate away, my stomach full. Eventually Dylan does the same.

"So we have a few hours left of freedom." I say, breaking the silence.

"If you could call it that. I found a place I want to show you." Dylan replies, standing up.

As I stand, he takes my hand and pulls me through the hallway. I am surprised by the gesture, but try to think nothing of it. I don't like him that way. I can't like him that way. We reach a black door at the end of the train, and when Dylan opens it, my jaw drops.

The entire ceiling is glass, along with the walls. The world rushes by, stopping for no one. Trees bathed in the golden morning sunlight pass by, along with the fluffy white clouds the deep blue of the sky. "You know what's even more fun?" Dylan walks to the centre of the room, and lies flat on his back, his arms spread, his eyes looking up to the sky. "It feels like you're floating. Come on!" I join him in the middle of the room, my hair fanning out on the white floor. I look up to the sky, the clouds passing by peacefully. A flock of mockingjays narrowly miss the train's roof and continue on, unfazed. Dylan's right, it feels like you are floating up there with them. I close my eyes, smiling. This is perfect.


	7. Chapter 7

We lie there in silence for a while, watching the trees and grass melt away and flat land replace it. I eventually sit up, my head spinning. I look over at Dylan and smile. He has fallen asleep. He looks the same in sleep as he does waking. Determined. It's as if there is a place in sleep he so desperately wants to reach. I get up quietly and sneak to the end of the car, trying not to wake him. I face the back window, the world changing around me. I hug my knees, and watch. The sun has risen high now, the golden light developing to white. The land has changed from green to brown, with the occasional water dam. After about fifteen minutes, Dylan slides down beside me.

"I wonder what the Capitol will be like." He says after a while.

I continue gazing out the window.

"Well with the war, I expect it wouldn't be in the greatest shape." I reply.

"Well they won, didn't they? They would have fixed it up for the Games, especially with the whole country watching. Or being forced to watch, anyway."

Dylan sits so close to me, I can feel the heat radiating from him. I look at him finally, but he's gazing out the windows. The determined look that nearly always dominates his face is gone. He looks innocent and young, too young to be sent off to the slaughter.

He looks up and I quickly glance away. I can't do this, I can't become too attached. We may be allies, but who knows for how long? Dylan has a sort of confidence in himself that couldn't possibly be good in a situation like this.

I don't know what's going to happen in that arena, but there are two things I know for sure. One, I can trust Dylan, he grew up with the ways I did, and he's got an air of innocence around him. Two, I am going to survive for as long as I possibly can, even if I have to drag myself to walk. I will not give up. For Mags.

In that moment, I realize just how scared I am. It's natural to be scared in this circumstance of course, but fear has lodged itself in me, rooted itself tightly, and I don't think it's going to leave me until the last breath leaves my lungs. A lump forms in my throat.

I am not fearless, I am not brave. I am terrified.

I am just about to ask Dylan how he's feeling when we are plunged into darkness.

He gets up and runs to the side window. With fingers pressed to the glass, he gasps.

"We are nearly there I think! This is the tunnel!"

"The tunnel?"

"Yeah! The tunnel that leads to the Capitol!"

I get up and join him, but only see darkness. Suddenly we are bathed in bright sunlight, and I clamp my eyes shut, the light blinding. I open them again, squinting, and for the first time see the Capitol. The rail the train runs on is right alongside a dam of water that surrounds the majestic buildings of the Capitol. The buildings are endless, I've never seen something so big in my life. I hear Dylan gasp beside me, but I can only stare.

The sun has risen high now, and the light shines golden on the city and the mountains in the distance. It truly is beautiful, back to its glorious state so quickly after a terrible war. How many Capitol families will be still grieving, as I am? How many Capitol children will wander this earth alone, with no parents to guide them through this harsh suffering they call life?

I'm shaken from thoughts of the Capitol by Dylan, who takes my hand again. I flinch away, reminding myself of the circumstances of which we are here. His eyes flick from our now separate hands to my face.

"Nerida, we better go. They'll be looking for us."


	8. Chapter 8

We make our way to the dining room, and find Zibia rushing around. Aubrey is sitting calmly in a chair.

"Oh there you two are! We will be arriving at the train station in about five minutes!" Zibia twitters.

"Sit down, you two. Relax a little before all the insanity begins." Aubrey insists, gesturing to the seats opposite her.

I pull out the brass chair and slide into it.

"Okay you two. There will be heaps of Capitol citizens at the station to see you arrive. It will also be televised. I want you to smile and wave, no matter how much you resent these people." She looks at me, with an accusing look in her eyes. My eyes lower to the table. Well, if I want to survive, I guess I'll have to. I fake a smile, and Aubrey points at me.

"Yes, that's better. You'll be taken by car to the Remake Center, where as I said yesterday you'll meet your stylist and prep team. Do as they say, and don't argue."

I'm about to ask about our 'remaking' when I'm interrupted by cheering outside. The train slows to a stop. We have arrived at the train station.

"I'll see you two later." Aubrey says, and leaves the room. To get off before we do, I assume.

I get up and look out the window at the Capitol freaks before me.

When they spot me peering out the window, they begin screaming and shouting, jumping up and down.

Zibia dresses normally compared to these people. There are women with multicolored skin and 3 foot tall wigs, and men with moustaches that curl all the way to the top of their head. I even spot a pink woman with a cat's tail, with matching whiskers.

"Time to make your debut, children! Let's go!" I hear Zibia behind me.

"What utter freaks." Dylan mutters to me as he walks past.

I follow him and Zibia through the hallways to the entrance, and for the first time since leaving my home, step out of the train.

Chaos ensues.

There are Capitol people touching me, patting my shoulder, tugging my hair. I start to shake them off, irritated and frightened, before remembering what Aubrey said. _Smile and wave, no matter how much you resent these people._ I put on my biggest smile and wave to them, wondering when I became such a good actor.

I hate these people, with their weirdo clothes and fashions and their annoying accents, and to be quite honest, they terrify me. They love us now, but they'll be cheering louder when they see us on screen with our throats cut.

Dylan walks nervously beside me and takes my hand. This time I don't flinch away, I clutch it like a lifeline.

Eventually I see a car in the sea of colour and noise. I quicken my pace, dragging Dylan behind me and catching up to Zibia. I wrench the car door open and leap inside, Dylan right behind me.

He slams the door shut and exhales.

"I never want to go through that again!" He groans.

"I don't think we have much of a choice." I reply, realizing I am still holding his hand. I pull it away, and begin waving and smiling to the citizens.

Dylan gives me a bewildered look, before realizing what I'm doing. He pastes the most excited smile on his face and waves to the freaks. I laugh, gazing at the crazy, excited people through the glass windows.

The car engine roars to life, and we begin to move. There is a black window separating us from the driver and Zibia.

We pull out of the station, and onto the shiny Capitol road. The buildings tower above us, made of glass and shimmering metal. The sun is high in the sky now, casting a white glow over the city. Residents mill around the white streets, talking and laughing.

We arrive at the Remake Centre, a tall silver building silhouetted against the afternoon sun. Zibia leads us through the Centre, and we reach a glass elevator.

She presses a button labelled _4,_ and sighs with relief.

"Okay, I feel I should tell you two that you will be separated during your makeover." She says, remarkably calm.

My heartbeat quickens. I don't want to face this alone. Dylan glances at me anxiously.

The elevator halts, and the door opens. Zibia strides out, and we follow nervously behind her.

We are in a hallway, with doors of different numbers. We reach two doors with a silver 4 on them.

"Nerida, your prep team is waiting for you behind the left door. Dylan, yours on the right. I'll see you in a few hours, when you are ready for the Parade!" Zibia chirrups as she leaves.

And we are alone, standing in front of our doors. I turn to look at Dylan. His hand is on the golden handle, and his face is pale. He gives me a small smile.

"See you soon." He says.

And then he's gone.


	9. Chapter 9

I open the door tentatively, the hinge squeaking a little. The room is large and silver, with no windows. There is a huge mirror on one side of the room, and a long counter on the other. The counter top is scattered with strange multicoloured bottles and gels.

Two women and a man turn to face me, and I recoil a little as I spot the features of the crazy Capitol people. One of the women has lemon yellow skin, the other has gems implanted in her cheeks and cherry red lips, and the man has platinum silver hair and a swirling rainbow tattoo on his arm that changes colours. They crowd around me, touching my skin and examining the condition of my hair.

The yellow woman beams at me.

"You must be Nerida! My name is Alannis, and this is Concetta!" She gestures to the sparkly woman.

"We are going to make you look fabulous, dear!" Concetta squeaks.

"My name is Dove! You will have to put up with us for a few hours, but when we are done with you, you will be flawless!"

"Nice to meet you." I stammer, my stomach relaxing a little. They seem kind, for Capitol people.

Alannis pulls at my hair and smiles.

"You have beautiful hair! So blonde and wavy! But the leg hair, oh it must go!"

Before I can protest, she pulls me over to a bed frame and what looks like a changing curtain. She hands me a blue papery robe.

"Put this on and we can get started! We will go and get ready."

She rejoins Dove and Concetta at the counter at the other end of the room. I hate to think of what they are for.

I slip behind the curtain and pull off the jeans and light blue t-shirt I picked out in the train. I fold them up carefully, even though I'm unsure if I'll wear them again.

I pull the thin blue robe over my head, the paper brushing gently against my skin. I walk out to the bed frame and lie down; awaiting whatever 'beauty' they intend to inflict on me.

They approach me after about 5 minutes.

"Okay, just relax Nerida, or this will be a lot more difficult." Dove assures me.

Warmness spreads over my leg, which I realize is a wax sort of substance. Alannis lays a sheet of paper over it.

_What are they going to do with that? How will they get it-_

The paper is suddenly ripped off my skin, tearing the hair from its surface. I suppress a scream. The pain is almost unbearable. I sit upright, clutching my leg. While one side is normal, the other is smooth and clear of hair. I realize I will have to go through this three more times. One for each side of my leg.

I start to get up, but Concetta pushes me back down. I struggle against her, but she is strong. A wild panic flares up, and my teeth sink into her arm. She cries out in pain.

"Dove, get the sedation!" She shrieks.

Next thing I know, there is a needle in my arm. The liquid seeps through my veins, cold as ice. My arms and legs feel heavy as Alannis gently lowers me onto the table.

I try to scream but my mouth feels like it's been stuffed with cotton. Somewhere I feel the warm sensation on my other leg, and then the inexplicable pain of the hair being torn out of its follicles.

The world is a blur, and hands pull me gently onto my stomach. After ten minutes of absolute torture, I am flipped onto my back again, and then they apply it to my eyebrows. The pain is duller this time. After Dove is done with my eyebrows, they sit down, sighing.

The world slowly comes back into focus, and I sit up, rubbing my eyes.

"I'm sorry." I mumble, guilt seeping into me like the sedation.

"That's quite alright, love. I understand. Don't worry, the waxing is done." Concetta says gently, taking my hand. I look to her arm and see the red teeth marks, and begin to cry.

_I'm not even in the Games yet and I'm already a monster. _

Concetta folds me into her arms, and I sob.

"It's just a side effect of the sedation, she'll get over it." I hear Alannis say behind me.

After five minutes of solid crying, I stop, wiping my cheeks.

"Are you ready for the fun part now, darling?" Concetta asks me.

I nod, with a small smile. I'm fortunate to have such kind people as a prep team.

They don't seem to be excited about the Games itself, only the Parade tonight. But I guess that's because they don't know exactly what happens in these Games. The Capitol has probably glorified it so much the citizens forget how barbaric the whole affair is.

They sit me down and apply a skin coloured paste to my face. Makeup. Dove brushes sparkly blue and black across my eyelids while Alannis applies thick black liquid to my eyelashes and around them. Concetta glides lipstick across my lips, a shade of blue the colour of the ocean at home. They dust aqua glitter over my hair, and use a strange iron to strengthen the waves in it.

"Okay darl, I think you're done with us for today! Time to take you to Dante!" Alannis says finally.

"But first, have a quick look at yourself and tell us what you think!" Concetta exclaims.

They help me up off the bed, and I walk to the other side of the room where the huge mirror is. I gasp.

The girl in the mirror is stunning. The dark blue that surrounds her eyes brings out the vivid emerald in her irises. Her blonde hair falls past her shoulders and down her back in beautiful waves, sparkling blue. Her lips are the colour of the ocean in District 4, and her whole face seems to radiate beauty.

This girl cannot be me. But when I move, she moves. I am speechless.

However much I despise the Capitol people, I truly admire their ability to transform a person.

"Thank you so much! I love it!" I exclaim.

I see Dove's beaming smile in the mirror, and Concetta and Alannis clap excitedly.

"Okay, you shining star, time to meet Dante!" Dove exclaims.

I am guided through a door in the room I did not notice. The room is fairly similar to the previous one, except for an elevator on the other side of the room, and there is no counter, just another bed frame.

"Dante will be here shortly! Just wait here!"

And I'm alone again.

I look in the mirror at my reflection again. I don't look anything like myself. It's good, in a way. To be someone completely different. Confident, beautiful, strong. I can hide behind this mask of makeup, hideaway the plain, scared girl I am.

I sit on the frame, examining my newly cleaned nails. They are perfectly oval shaped, and painted a light shade of glittery blue. These Capitol people sure love sparkly things.

Again the thoughts of the arena hit me. What will I face in that prison? What horrors does the Capitol have in store for us as punishment for our parents doing?

_They died to save me. It was all for nothing. _

When the Uprising ended a year ago, District 4 was half destroyed. I still remember it like it was yesterday. Both my parents were a part of the District's armed forces, and they were patrolling the district. Mags was with a friend, at the beach. I was at the square, buying the next week's rations. Out of nowhere, the Capitol hovercrafts appeared, the shining seal of Panem shining white against the black. My father ran to me, yelling out that they were bomb crafts. My mother was with him, and as my dad picked me up and threw me into a shop through the window, I heard my mother say "It's okay, you're safe. I love you so –"

She never finished the sentence.

Sometimes, when I close my eyes, I can still see the flames bursting across my vision, the sounds of the explosions ringing through my ears. I wake up at all hours of the night seeing glass flying across that store, my own screams echoing in my mind-

I am interrupted from my miserable thoughts when the door opens. A man with dark hair and eyes walks in. He is not as freaky as the others, but still not what I would consider normal. He is wearing normal clothes, but has skin the exact shade of the lavender we have at home. He has blue eyelashes and eyebrows, with a glittering tattoo curling around his left eye.

"You must be Nerida." He says to me, his voice oddly calming.

"Yes, that's me." I say, my voice shaky.

"Welcome to the Capitol. I'm sure you're absolutely delighted to be here." He says, the last part dripping sarcasm. I like him already.

"Yes, I can't wait to get my throat cut." I reply, with an equal amount of sarcasm.

"Oh I think you'll do alright."

"What makes you think that? You only just met me." I ask.

I'm pretty sure the other tributes wouldn't use sarcasm in a situation like this. I've known you for less than a minute and you seem like a fighter. A spirit, if you will."

"Thanks."

He turns away from me and puts a few numbers into a keypad I didn't notice before. The wall slides open, and Dante pulls out something on a hanger. My jaw drops open.

It is beautiful, the outfit. It is a dress made of a silky aqua blue material, with a net draped all over. It reminds me of the ocean, of my home. I gently take it from Dante, and turn it over to see a flowing cape that throws off a metallic blue gleam in the light. I smile. It is so beautiful.

I look up at Dante, and he's smiling with a proud yet humble smile.

"Go on, put it on!" he exclaims.

I recoil, as there are no changing curtains or separate rooms. I don't want to dress in front of this guy, I don't even know him!

He seems to realize this.

"Oh right! Sorry, I forgot."

Dante turns his back to me, and I remove the robe. Carefully I unhook the dress from the hanger, and slide it on. The material is smooth and cool against my skin. I turn to the mirror, and gasp.

The dress is stunning. It hugs my slight frame, and the silvery cape flows gracefully around my feet. The sleeves only begin at the edge of my shoulders, and the blue seems to melt into my skin. It isn't revealing in any way, but shows enough skin to be beautiful. The dress flows around my feet, and the net splays out and stops jaggedly around my ankles, a blue-white material that resembles waves taking its place around my feet. The whole outfit gives off a glamorous shimmer, without being tacky.

"You might want to hold the cape up until we get you on the chariot, we don't want you tripping up." Dante tells me, smiling a little.

He straightens my hair, which is a little messed up from putting on the dress.

"I think you're definitely going to make an impression. I've seen the other outfits, they are nowhere as good as this, if I don't say so myself." He tells me.

"Good to see humility is another thing the Capitol has tossed aside." I reply somewhat bitterly, remembering what it is I'm here for.

To my surprise, Dante bursts out laughing.

"Oh girl, you have some wits about you!" he remarks as he walks past me to open the door. As he passes me, he stops. He leans to my ear.

"You don't seriously think I'm one of them, do you?"

I tense up. What does he mean? Is he from a district?

Before I have a chance to ask, I am being guided out the door to the hallway. I gather up my cape and hold it tightly as I walk down the hallway to the elevator, which will take me to the bottom floor, where my chariot is waiting, along with Dylan.


	10. Chapter 10

When we are in the elevator, travelling downwards, Dante speaks again.

"When you are in that chariot, smile and wave, got it?"

"Why?!" I ask in disgust.

"Because it will make you gather favour with the audience. They will remember you, and want to sponsor you. You can bet that no other tributes will do it, so it will make you stand out even more. This could be the difference between life and death for you Nerida, sponsors will make a lot of difference."

I think. He's right; I could be on the verge of starvation or dehydration in that arena. If I gather favour with the crowd, I can get sponsors which can save my life.

"Okay." I say finally.

"Make sure you tell Dylan too." He tells me as the elevator stops gently. The doors slide open.

There are people everywhere, and for the first time, I see my competitors. As I walk to my chariot, where Dylan is waiting, the other tributes turn and stare.

The District 1 tributes – Aurora and Blaize – are wearing ridiculous diamond encrusted outfits. Aurora wears a crown and dress made entirely of diamonds, and a superior smirk. Blaize wears a diamond covered shirt and pants, but doesn't wear a crown. The light from them burns my eyes, and I turn away in disgust. I wonder if they know how tacky they look.

None of the other tributes really catch my attention, they wear pretty ordinary outfits, representing the industry of their district. The District 9 tributes are dressed in outfits made completely out of wheat plant, and District 3 wears electrical cords. District 7 is wearing leaves, and District 11 is wearing hay. They don't really stand out at all, they are rather ordinary.

Dylan is wearing a matching outfit to mine, with a blue shirt with an identical net. He isn't wearing any makeup, so his remake wouldn't have taken very long. He no doubt got some spare time, a privilege I might never get again.

He smiles nervously at me.

"Ready to impress these idiots?"

"Dante says to smile and wave to the audience. You think you can handle that?" I ask him.

His face screws up in disgust and confusion.

"What the hell for?" Dylan asks, the disgust clear in his voice. I can imagine he is thinking exactly what I was when Dante told me to be nice to the citizens.

"To gain favour and get sponsors, you idiot." I tell him, half playfully.

"Right. I guess that makes sense." He grins.

My heart gives an involuntary flutter, and I try to quell it. I am unsuccessful.

Dante reappears, and Dylan climbs up onto the chariot, led by two beautiful snow-white horses. Dylan takes my hand and pulls me gently up onto the glossy chariot.

"Remember you two, wave, smile, do as much as you can to appeal to these people!" Dante calls from below.

Dylan gives a thumbs up sign, and we wait for the other chariots to move forward. Just before our chariot begins to move, I notice for the first time the District 12 tributes. Not really outstanding in their plain coal black outfits, they probably won't get much attention. The dark haired girl, Haylee, looks nervous and pale, her lips trembling. Liam, the blonde boy, looks determined, no trace of fear in his eyes. His blue eyes flick up from the floor and meet mine. My heart thuds against my chest, and I give him a small smile. He tilts his head slightly, and smiles back. Our chariot goes through the archway of the Training Centre, and he is cut from my sight.

The noise is deafening, the yelling and cheering of the Capitol citizens ringing in my ears. The bright lights make our outfits shimmer, like the sunlight on the ocean. My cape glides behind me, like a wave on the tide. The citizens are shrieking with joy as we pass them, and Dylan smiles at them. I look out to them, paste a bright smile on my face, and wave in what I hope is excitement. There are thousands of freaks waving back at me jumping up and down, screaming and yelling, and waving with their multicolored hands.

"Wow, these people are mad." Dylan whispers to me through gritted teeth as he waves and smiles to the people who will be cheering on our slaughter just as they cheer us on now. The President's mansion looms up in front of us, a pearly white tower against the starry sky. President Flare awaits us, standing regally on his balcony, the flag of Panem unfurled above his head, in its gold and scarlet glory.

The chariots halt in a semi-circle, and my eyes find themselves on Liam again. He looks up to the President, blonde hair tousled from the breeze, and eyes burning like the coal of District 12. I look away, wondering why I'm so easily distracted by this boy.

The President clears his throat, and the crowds fall silent.

He begins his speech, welcoming us, and begins waffling on about courage and sacrifice, a speech very similar to Zibia's at the reaping. President Flare is a rather ghastly looking man. Around seventy, with pitch black hair, and a rather menacing looking moustache. He wears a suit with a black rose in the lapel, and smiles down at us spitefully while giving his speech. He finishes with a flourish, and the chariots swing forward again, the horse's hooves clicking against the cement. We turn around and head back to the Training Centre, the crowd in an uproar again. I wave and smile once more, and feel relieved when the chariot pulls into the Centre at last. The doors swing shut, and Dylan sighs and grins at me.

"I think we did alright."

I nod, almost tripping over my cape as I step down from the chariot. Dylan jumps down after me, and goes to speak to his stylist. I pick one of the black roses from the chariot's side, and twirl it thoughtfully. What did the citizens think of me? Did I make enough of an impression or did they see right through my cheesy façade?

"You look very nice."

I whirl around and find Liam standing right behind me. His hair is still messy from the wind of the Parade, and his blue eyes twinkle with kindness and burn with that determination I saw before.

"Thankyou." I smile. "You don't look too bad yourself."

"Oh this old thing?" He gestures to his plain black outfit, grinning.

Dylan reappears at my side, and Liam breaks the eye contact.

"Looking good, 12. Why don't you go find your stylist and ask him where the hell your actual outfit is?" Dylan snaps. I elbow him angrily.

"Dylan, shut u-"

"I might just do that." Liam says pleasantly, and strides off.

I swing around to Dylan and fight the urge to slap him.

"What the hell is your problem?" I burst out.

"Nerida, you can't skip around here making friends! Have you forgotten that we have to kill these people?!"

Oh, right. In a flurry of excitement at the Parade, I had almost forgotten our situation. I'm not here to make friends, I'm here to get home.

As Dylan and I walk to our apartment in the Training Centre, I still can't shake Liam from my head. Why would he just randomly appear and compliment me? Was it a form of manipulation so that I might spare his life in the arena?

We reach the apartment, and Aubrey and Zibia are waiting for us. They begin clapping, and inform is that we were one of the standouts of the Parade.

I go to my room, shower, and change into a pair of pyjama pants and a t-shirt. My bedroom in the Training Centre is almost identical to the one on the train, but slightly bigger.

I flop down on the bed, and look out the window to the city below me. There are citizens still dashing around, at eleven o'clock at night. I wonder what it's like to have everything you need, and more. To not wake up every morning without a care in the world, and have your life out in front of you.

I am shaken from my rather depressing thoughts by a knock on the door. I pull the mahogany door open, and find Dylan standing there, wearing clothes similar to me.

"Hey."

"Hey."

"Can I come in? I want to talk to you." He asks.

"Okay, sure." I hold the door open, and he sits down on the bed. I join him, and he sighs.

"Okay Nerida, I'm sorry for earlier. I didn't mean to snap."

I'm shocked at his apology. But also touched.

"Don't be sorry Dylan. You were right." I reassure him.

"No, it was unnecessary." He replies.

I look to the window, and sigh.

"It doesn't matter, Dylan. It's okay." I turn to him again and smile.

"I just felt bad, is all. I don't need any more negativity."

"You're right." I agree. "So don't worry about it anymore, okay?"

He smiles. "Okay."

He returns it, and lies back on the velvety bed, spreading his arms out..

"I'm gonna miss these things." He says.

I lie back with him, and I reach for the remote by the bedside table. I flick a button, and the ceiling illuminates with a beautiful starry sky. Dylan gasps with delight, and I smile. He takes my hand and this time I don't flinch away. I take a photograph in my mind, this moment here with Dylan underneath a beautiful sky, and know I will keep it until the last breath leaves my body.


	11. Chapter 11

I wake to sunlight illuminating the golden buildings of the Capitol across the room. Dylan is gone, and I'm alone. I shower quickly, and dress in the training outfit that I found slid under my door. I face the mirror and sigh, taking a minute to myself.

Just when I've steadied my heart rate again, I hear a knock on the door. Zibia.

'Nerida! Time to go!'

The elevator dings when we reach the Training Centre floor, and the doors slide open. We are five minutes early, and are the first ones there. I glance around the massive gymnasium. There are weapons everywhere. Knives, swords, bows and arrows, spears, slingshots, and axes. There are also survival stations, ones for fire building, knot tying, tree climbing, camouflage, and edible and poisonous plants. I spot an obstacle course of some sort on the other side of the room.

There are instructors preparing the stations, and the other tributes are slowly arriving. Anise and Sage from District 3 are the first, and they give me and Dylan a snide look. To intimidate us I suppose. My heart beats quicker as each tribute arrives. These people are my competition. They mean the end of me. A sudden realization of my imminent death overcomes me and I almost pass out on the spot.

I must have fallen onto Dylan slightly, because he grabs my arm.

"You okay?"

I regain composure, I can't be like this already. I have to appear strong. I quietly take a breath.

"Yeah I'm fine, sorry." I straighten up.

All the tributes seem to have arrived now, and the woman who seems to be leading the training takes her place in front of us.

"Welcome to training. My name is Circe. For the next three days you will be learning survival techniques that will assist you in the arena. We have a wide range of stations for you, feel free to wander from each one at your leisure. The instructors are here to assist you, so feel free to ask any questions. You are not to fight with any of the other tributes, and no manipulation, or there will be severe consequences."

Hmm. Severe consequences. Like that's any worse.

"You may begin. We will stop for lunch at 12 exactly."

Dylan nudges me softly.

"I'm going to go to the archery, we should probably go to separate stations so that the others don't think we are together all the time because that could be bad for us both." He whispers.

"Good idea." I whisper back.

I head to the tree climbing station, which is empty. All the other tributes have headed for the weapons. I decide to go to those stations later, as I definitely need some education in combat.

The instructor gives me a smile and tells me to practise and climb as much as I like, and if I need any help to ask.

I climb the artificial tree slowly at first, shakily pulling myself up and then begin to scale it up and down repeatedly to train my upper body. It becomes easier, but I still need a bit more practise. I thank the instructor, and move on to the fire building, as I don't have much experience.

The instructor teaches me how to make a range of different fires. Small ones, smoke fires, cooking fires. I soak up the information, and I practise by myself for a while.

I am just getting a smoke fire started when someone taps me on the shoulder. I jump and almost fall into the fire.

"Calm down, we aren't in the arena yet." Liam laughs as he sits down next to me with a fire making kit.

I poke the fire with my stick and smile.

"Hey Liam."

"Hey. How's the training going?" he asks.

"Haven't done much yet, and the others are hogging the weapons."

"Yeah I know, I was getting tired of waiting in line. Thought I'd come and keep you company." He says.

"Well thankyou." I smile.

"I thought the guy from your district would be with you." Liam inquires.

"Nah… he's more interested in weapons." I say quickly.

"Why am I not surprised?" He laughs, but I hear a hint of something like dislike in his tone.

"Sorry about him last night. It was uncalled for." I apologize.

"You don't need to apologize for him." Liam says, his eyes on his slowly flickering fire.

"I know, but he was being ridiculous." I reply. Liam waves his hand dismissively.

"Ugh, you'd think coming from a coal district I'd be able to make a fire." He sighs, poking his tiny fire.

"Here." I reach over and try to get the fire going. "So what's 12 like?" I ask curiously.

"Coal, coal dust, more coal, and destroyed buildings. Not really good. Our population's halved since the start of the war. Probably a good thing I'm not going back." He says, shrugging.

"Oh." I don't know what to say to that.

"What about 4? Is it really as nice as what I've heard? You know, ocean views, big houses?"

"I don't know where you get your rumours from. 4 isn't in good shape, most of our buildings were destroyed too. We only have ocean views from the hills, and my house was alright I suppose, until it got blew up." I avoid the subject of my parents. I don't want to cry in front of Liam.

"War sucks, huh?"

"Yup. And here we are." I sigh.

"Here we are." He says.

We poke our fires in silence for a while, reminded of our doom.

"Whats the ocean like?" He asks eventually.

I look at him. "You've never seen the ocean?"

"Nope." He grins.

"It's blue and sparkly." I say, smiling.

He smiles that grin of his again.

"Sounds beautiful." He says.


	12. Chapter 12

The three training days pass by in a flurry of activity. By the end of the last training day, I can climb a tree faster than most of the other tributes, have learned five new knot tying techniques, been trained in basic combat, and have spent the few hours of training throwing the knives, hitting the target every time.

Dylan has kept me company through the last few days, and just yesterday he was helping me with combat. We are both getting pretty good, but so are the others.

I don't know how I'm going to cope in this arena. I've developed the physical skills necessary, but over the past few days I've got to know a bit about these kids. The girl from 2, Anise, shared the last piece of bread with me yesterday at lunchtime, and Aurora from 1 complimented my outfit from the Parade. The boy from 7 helped me reach the knives as I was too small to get them myself, and the girl from 11 was telling me yesterday how to tell between an edible berry and a poisonous one. In a days' time, we will have to kill or be killed, whether it be by tribute or by some other horrific way. It hurts to know that we have suffered for so long through this war and now we must suffer further, and who knows how many others will suffer the same fate in years to come. This was our parent's war, and while they fought for our freedom and equality, they lost, along with us. It wasn't their fault that this happened of course. I shake away the thoughts and concentrate on Circe's good luck speech.

Soon enough it's dusk, and the sun is setting over the shiny Capitol buildings, tinging the sky a vivid pink-orange. I stand at the window, soaking up the sunset, as its most likely the last one I will see.

I hear Zibia before I see her, and apparently it is time to get ready for the interviews.

When I arrive at my dressing room backstage about half an hour later, Dante and my prep team are waiting for me. My prep team rush to greet me, and are chattering excitedly about the outfit Dante has for me for the interview. He slips into another room to retrieve it, and when he returns he is holding the most beautiful full length gown I have ever seen. It makes the Parade outfit look like a potato sack. I run to my dressing room to put it on, and as I turn to face the mirror I gasp.

It is made of some Capitol material which sparkles brighter than glitter. The material around my shoulders seems to become one with my skin the same way the Parade one did. The bodice of the dress is the same shade as my skin, but sparkles like glitter. As the gown descends around my waist it becomes deep shades of beautiful blue. The material flows like waves around my feet, blue and white sea foam, material glittering like the ocean. The dress hugs my waist, but loosens out around my feet. Like a tail.

I walk slowly and carefully out to the prep team and Dante, and they all gasp at once.

"Nerida, you look like a beautiful mermaid!"

"Oh Nerida, you look stunning already without even having your hair and makeup done!"

"Wow. Just wow. You will be the star of the show."

Dante smiles rather proudly, and takes me by the hands.

"Thankyou!" I whisper.

"It's the least I can do." He says humbly.

The prep team surround me and start on my makeup. They use a liquid to make my eyelashes longer and thicker, and glide it around my eyes to bring out the emerald and flecks of gold in my eyes. They dust deep blue eye shadow over my eyelids and a sapphire glitter into my hair, and paint my lips a light blue.

When I stand in the mirror I can't recognize the girl staring back at me. She looks nothing like me, with her beautiful dress, flowing hair and radiant face. Me, Nerida Fairling, who spends her days pulling up fish nets in t-shirts and shorts and those boots that you wear in mud. Me, with my hair constantly in a ponytail, and having to prise seaweed out of the knots. I am now standing, sparkling, and the complete opposite of the girl at home.

I thank my prep team, and Dante leads me out to the hall where I will wait to be interviewed. The hall is fairly dark, and I can barely see. Ten of the twenty four are filled, though I can't make out who they are. I spot Dylan waiting a few metres away in a blue outfit that is the same shade as my dress, and I walk to join him.

"Hey."

He turns and stares at me, and I begin to feel a little uncomfortable, insecurity weaving its way through my veins.

"You look beautiful, Nerida. Like, really beautiful." He mumbles, a small smile on his face.

"You don't look too bad yourself." I smile, suddenly embarrassed.

We sit in silence for a while, unable to really judge anyone else until they go up on stage with Caige. The screen on the wall lights up as Caige gushes about what a spectacular show we are in for in the coming weeks. I roll my eyes. _Yeah, it's going to be great fun for you lot, watching innocent kids slaughter each other and call it entertainment. _Caige twitters on a bit more about how exciting the first annual Games are going to be.

Aurora from District 1 has her interview first. She wears a short white dress, and her shoulder length blonde hair has been cut to frame her face. It really suits her, though she is flicking it way too much. She is bubbly and charming with Caige, and the crowd seems to love her.

Sage from 2 seems to win the crowd with his humour, but the tributes from 3 mostly just tremble and answer the interview questions with one word.

Before I know it, I'm being hurried to the sidestage, where Aubrey is waiting for me. I haven't seen her for a while and don't really like her that much, but it's a relief to see her, especially since my dinner is threatening to make a reappearance from nerves.

"Just be yourself, try to get along with Caige, charm the crowd. Think you can do that?" she asks.

"No pressure then." I say, hyperventilating slightly.

"You'll be fine, you already impressed them at the Parade. Go out there and show them who you are and what you can do." She reassures me, her hand on my shoulder, as Caige announces my name to the crowd. I take a deep breath, and walk out to the stage.


End file.
